


i was killing before killing was cool

by Marshmellowtea



Category: DRRB, Dangan:Rebirth, Dangan:Rebirth-Voices
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Study, Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Disassociation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Mental Health Issues, alright alright alright, author doesn't know what a character study is get a load of this guy, general assassin stuff, it's....complicated, kinda?? i think??, only sort of. he talks to a younger version of himself, those last two are SUPER vague though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmellowtea/pseuds/Marshmellowtea
Summary: in a dream, seishi gets a chance to talk to his child self. they both get the chance to vent about a few things.





	i was killing before killing was cool

**Author's Note:**

> oof i kinda had a subpar day yesterday so i ended up spitting this out lmao. it's kind of, sort of a vent fic? but not really? like i wasn't writing about the things that were making me feel bad? basically what happened was that i wasn't feeling good so seishi had to suffer lmao sorry bud :') 
> 
> title is from "kill all your friends" by my chemical romance because i'm still reliving my emo phase

“Why haven’t things gotten better, Yodogawa-san?”

Seishi turns, grateful to have a distraction from the icy blackness surrounding him. A kid stands behind him, and it doesn’t take him long to recognize who it is. Seishi’s eyes widen for a moment, before they soften slightly, guilt and pain suddenly weighing heavily on his chest.

“I don’t know, Zen-chan,” he says, a weak chuckle escaping him. “I’m trying to make them better, though, I really am. I promise.”

Zen bites his lip, fidgeting in place. Seishi remembers those days, when he used to fidget and squirm freely without care of what people thought of him. The habit has since been beaten out of him, his superiors at the agency deeming it inappropriate for a highly trained, skilled assassin. It’s simply unprofessional, and honestly, he’s almost grateful for it. It’s hard to keep up his sleek, intellectual novelist act up when he’s wringing his hands and bouncing his leg like an impatient child.

He still catches himself falling back on his old tendencies from time to time, though. Occasionally he still finds himself chewing his on his nails or his knuckles, or clicking his pen over and over again, or rocking himself slightly. A jolt of panic shoots through him every time he catches himself, even though nowadays he’s rarely watched so closely for his superiors to notice his little slip ups. The few times that they do, though, well…

Punishments _hurt_. They make damn sure that he doesn’t dare to even think of disobeying them again. Seishi has to remain extra vigilant, be sure not to make any mistakes. As the agency’s youngest employee, they tend to ride him a bit hard to make sure he’s presenting a good image (even if said image is technically invisible from the rest of the world, their clients would still notice if he came off as weak or insufficiently trained) -

“I thought that people would stop hurting us after this,” Zen says quietly, interrupting Seishi from his train of thought. “After we became dangerous. I thought that would be enough to stop them.”

Seishi smiles bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, just because we’re dangerous doesn’t mean we don’t have people to answer to,” he mumbles, digging his fingernails into the skin of his arms.

Tears well up in Zen’s eyes, and his face scrunches up from the effort he’s making to not cry. He crosses his arms over his chest as well, and Seishi wonders if he’s also scratching at his skin.

“It’s not just them,” Zen says, shrinking in on himself. “Our coworkers too. More people are hurting us now than ever before.”

A sigh brushes past Seishi’s lips, and he claws at his skin a little more harshly. “I think it’s because we’re so dangerous that…that people want to hurt us. They either want to hurt us before we can hurt them, or it’s because they’re jealous. Our coworkers are mad that we’re better than them, you know? Since we’re so much younger than the rest of them…”

Zen sniffles, and a few stray tears stream down his cheeks. He quickly reaches up to swipe them away, but more continue to take their place. “It used to just be Mama,” he says quietly. “And she never did anything like _that_.”

A lump rises in Seishi’s throat, and he swallows thickly. He immediately understands what Zen is referring to. “We don’t need to talk about that,” he says plainly, hoping that’ll be enough to shut this train of conversation down. 

It isn’t. Zen sobs, stamping his foot in frustration. “Even people who say they’re our fans treat us like _that_.”

Seishi bristles. “Zen-chan, th-that’s different. I-I’m mature enough to handle that…that kind of thing with those women. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Please don’t make comments on things you don’t understand.”

“You don’t enjoy it!” Zen shouts, taking a few steps closer. Despite himself, Seishi instinctively flinches back.

“Zen-”

“You don’t like that kind of attention! Why don’t you _tell them that_?” Zen takes another step forward, his chest heaving. “Y-you don’t have to lay down and take that, y’know! I-I thought we were strong now! I-I thought we could say no now! Wh-wh-why won’t you tell them to _stop_ , you can-!”

“It’s not polite!” Seishi snaps, wincing a little as Zen flinches, raising his little hands as if he’s going to be struck. “S-sorry, Zen-chan…”

Zen whimpers through choked sobs, and Seishi once again finds himself swallowing back a lump lodged in the back of his throat. His hands shake, and he looks down at them with a very forced smile. He remembers being _Katagiri Zen_ , how he would flinch at every single sign that someone was upset with him. He still does, if he’s being completely honest. He’s just gotten much better at hiding it. Weakness within himself was something to be reviled, after all, if his training has taught him anything.

But it’s hard to be disgusted by it when it’s in the form of a child crying, isn’t it?

“Oh Zen-chan,” Seishi whispers, the guilt in his chest sinking down to his stomach, making nausea boil in its pit. “I really, truly am sorry. I suppose I never came to be what we needed, huh?”

Zen sobs softly, taking a few hesitant steps closer. “W-we’re famous. P-people care about us. B-but no one wants to stop bad things from happening to us.”

Seishi swallows, and the queasiness pulsing in his gut only grows stronger.

“They _don’t_ care, Zen-chan,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly as he says it aloud. “No one does. Not really. Not about us.”

There’s a pause.

“Ayumu-kun does,” Zen whispers finally. “Ayumu-kun cares about us, I can tell he does.”

Seishi’s breath hitches, and he closes his eyes. “Maybe that’s true,” he mumbles, his forced smile quickly starting to fall apart at its seams. “But he’s our next assignment. I have to kill him. I’m scared of what they’ll do to me if they don’t.”

_You remember what happened last time, right Zen?_

Tears sting at the corners of Seishi’s eyes, and for once, he doesn’t fight it. There’s no one here to see him like this. There’s no one here to call him a crybaby or other, much nastier names. There’s no one here to punish him. There’s just two halves of one miserable, wretched person. He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around Zen, who immediately wraps his arms tightly around him in turn.

“Yodogawa-san,” Zen mumbles, tucking his tear-stained face into the side of Seishi’s neck. “I-I want us to be okay.”

“I do too, Zen-chan,” Seishi whispers, swaying the two of them from side to side. “I don’t think that I deserve it anymore, though.” 

He chuckles weakly, before his laugh is soon cut off with a sob. He clings a little tighter to Zen with an aching desperation (for his youth, for innocence, for _worthiness_ ), and oh, if only he were in the right mindset, he’s sure he could write thousands of beautiful metaphors about this moment. _How weird is it to be embracing my younger self and actually be gaining comfort from it_ , he thinks, but as weird as it is, he’s still thankful for it.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but eventually, Zen stops crying, and he pulls away slightly. His thumb has somehow found his way into his mouth, and a pang that’s equal parts jealousy and wistfulness strikes Seishi’s ribcage.

“Zen-chan,” he murmurs, his eyes flitting over the kid’s tear streaked features. “I have to go now.”

Zen nods slowly, pulling his thumb out of his mouth and resting it against his bottom lip. “I wish you could stay,” he mumbles, reaching up with his free hand to wipe at Seishi’s cheek. “It’s safer in here.”

“I know,” Seishi murmurs, swallowing harshly. “It was nice to come here in a dream, rather than because…” He shakes his head. “Well, you know.”

“Because you need to escape something,” Zen says softly. He drops his hand, and watches with a frown as Seishi gets back to his feet.

Seishi plasters his usual smile back on his face, and he nods slightly. “Yes. That,” he says. Light starts to break through the darkness of the little dream world he’s created for himself, and he takes a deep breath in anticipation of facing the real world.

“Don’t kill Ayumu-kun,” Zen suddenly calls out. “Please. He’s so nice to you. He’s so nice to _us_.”

Seishi doesn’t get the chance to reply before his eyelids suddenly flutter open, the dark world around him fully disappears.

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted on my drrb headcanons blog bpd-seishi.tumblr.com, feel free to yell at me there :')


End file.
